


Red and white. Fire and ice. Death and life.

by wibblywobblyshuttityupupup



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Death, F/F, Lesbian Character, No Fandom - Freeform, Random story, Short Story, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:00:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29900760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wibblywobblyshuttityupupup/pseuds/wibblywobblyshuttityupupup
Summary: A random short story about two girls in a single battle(this hasn’t got anything to do with the chronicles of narnia, but i had to give a fandom and for some reason it gave me those kind of vibes)
Kudos: 1





	Red and white. Fire and ice. Death and life.

Red and white. Fire and ice. Death and life.

Droplets of ruby seeped into the ice snow creating a scarlet pathway. The girl followed it, leaving her own blood-red pattern intertwining with the old. Her feet slipped and stumbled over the mounds of snow as she crept deeper into the forest. The tops of the trees created a blanket so thick not even moonlight could reach her. The branches swayed in the wind egging her on, pointing in the direction she needed to go when it became too dark to see the trail. She clamped her hands to her wound, attempting to stop the blood flow escaping; her body was alight with fire, the heat flaming outwards from the epicentre of her wound, as if it could burn right through her skin and set the whole forest alight. She could see it: bright red tendrils leaping upwards and outwards encircling the whole world whilst the smoke snakes up, suffocating the sky, leaving the world a burning ball of pure flame outshining both the sun and the moon. She fell to her knees unable to carry her own weight, and crawled: further, deeper. Further, deeper. The trail became thicker until her hand splashed in a pool of red and her eyes lifted to meet the body.

Seventeen years. The war had been raging for seventeen years. The rivers had long since stopped flowing clear, but now a rusty brown- the remains of ash and blood and dead civilisations. The tang of copper was perpetual in the air and you could no longer travel without seeing dead carcasses and bones littering long abandoned cities and towns.

The world had erupted in chaos, two warring factions using whole countries as battlefields, rebel groups appearing and disappearing with the click of a finger, civilians caught in between, all hope lost.

Yet two people had been thrust together. Two people from opposite armies, opposite factions, thrust together with no explanation given. They had been in just one of thousands of battles raging across the world. It had been without order, men and woman dropping like dominoes, shots speaking out shouting for attention just to be drowned out by the next load of gunfire. The girl had raised her gun to find another pointed back at her; both eyes lifted, searching for an echo of their own, finding it. The unspoken anger: at the world, at the governments, at themselves. Neither could explain what had passed between them, it was as if they were two broken ends of a bridge that had now been fixed upon meeting the other, and as their senses became their own again both eyes slid away from the other, acknowledging that something otherworldly had passed between them, and they reloaded their weapons, firing at the next person ahead of them.

Bodies littered the ground, red staining white, and the two girls stood facing each other again, surrounded by death. As the battle had raged on, bullets had skimmed freely past the two girls, as if some greater being had stood in the midst of the battle, flicking the bullets away from their wanted targets. As if the universe had decided that it had had enough of the war and the evil, and it wanted something different. 

So the two girls stood face if each other, guns raised, the last two left alive. The sun behind them had finished watching the new battle of the day and slowly dipped beneath the horizon, giving off its own flames, joining in with the still conceding battles elsewhere. And the two girls still stood; breathless, legs shaking, hands trembling, unspeaking. Neither knew the other, they were strangers, already decided enemies, bonded by something greater than themselves. Something they were both too afraid to voice, and so they stood, feet shoulder width apart, arms straitened, hands on the trigger...

And shot.

As they had always been trained to do.

The girl collapsed completely next to this stranger she had never really known and wondered why she felt as if she had known her for a millennia, wondered at what it was that had passed between them, wondered if that same thing was what actually fuelled the violence that had started the wars. 

She took the others hand in her own, feeling the warmth of her skin pass between them. She didn’t know if she was still alive or if she was dead and she didn’t let herself wonder. She just gripped her hand tighter and looked around at the place she was to die in.

Red and white. Fire and ice. Death and life.

The tips of the white flowers were painted scarlet. She let a choked laugh escape her at the irony of it all. As if this one battle had been woven by fate, and now fate has decided to give something back- to honour the fallen, or as a warning. 

She let her eyes close, not thinking about it (not really caring about it) and let her last breath escape out of her and float up into the sky, joining every other last breath released.

Her head fell with a thump onto the snow, her limbs loosened, all except the hand, which still held onto the other just as tightly as it always had.

**Author's Note:**

> sjddjrsk thanks for reading if you did. i don’t really know what this is, but it came to me at 2am one night and i thought i would write it


End file.
